Forest
by RedEyedWarrior
Summary: In "Hook, Line and Screamer", Gwen warned her fellow campers never to venture out into the woods alone. Years later, the warning slips DJ's mind. Now he's going to pay the price. He meets the very last person he wants to meet, who has a revelation for him that he's not prepared to hear.


**DISCLAIMER: I claim no ownership of **_**Total Drama**_**.**

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><p>One day, DJ was sitting on a stump in the forest, basking in the beauty of nature surrounding him, when Chef Hatchet went up to him. DJ noticed him and immediately began to feel ill at ease. He's always been terrified of Chef Hatchet ever since he first laid eyes on the cook. Now he was all alone in the forest with Chef. Chef noticed the discomfort in the gentle giant's eyes, but continued walking towards him until there was only a metre between them. After a moment of awkward silence that felt like an eternity to DJ, Chef finally opened his mouth.<p>

"Walk with me my little child," Chef ordered. Scared to disobey Chef, DJ stood up and followed him.

"W-where are we going?" DJ asked.

Chef looked back at DJ. His face completely void of any emotion. "Deeper into the forest."

At this point, DJ was as bewildered as he was anxious. "How deep?"

"Until the end," Chef commanded; not even stopping to turn around to face the brickhouse. Not wanting to provoke anything, DJ continued to walk after the cook. They continued to walk for about ten minutes. Until they've reached a clearing in the forest. There was nothing there except for grass and one stump. Chef sat down on the stump and patted his thighs.

"Sit," Chef ordered.

DJ gulped. "You- you want me to sit on… your- your lap?" he stammered.

"Where else are ya gonna sit?" Chef asked. Not wanting to anger the cook, DJ walked over to him and sat down on his knees. Chef pulled him closer to his chest. DJ sat in this position for a while. It felt weird. He cannot remember the last time he's sat on an adult's lap. It was a long time ago for him. Long enough for it to feel weird for the giant.

"Devon Joseph," Chef finally spoke. "I have something to tell you." DJ began to feel even more uncomfortable. Whatever revelation Chef had for him, it was not going to be pleasant. "It was something I found it a few hours ago," Chef continued, "and I've been looking for you since. It is important that I tell you this right now."

DJ nodded. He wanted to say something, but he was at a loss for words.

"Before I tell you, you have to promise me you will not jump, lash out, sob or any of that crap," Chef instructed. "It is not something to be laughing about. But it certainly ain't something to turn into a pussy over." He paused and looked down at DJ. "Or turn into a bigger pussy. Are you ready to hear it?"

DJ knew very well that he had no other choice. Whatever it was that Chef had to share with him, he had to hear it. Whether he liked it or not. "Y-y-yes sir," he lied. Despite having to hear what Chef has to say, DJ did not want to hear it. He knew deep in his gut that it was not good news.

"You are my son," Chef finally revealed.

DJ was shocked. He could not believe his ears. There was no way Chef was telling the truth. Right?

Right?

"No!" DJ let out a yelp.

"You are my son, Devon," Chef repeated. "You are my child. I fathered you back in Jamaica. Your mother was a whore."

DJ gasped in horror and shock and what Chef has said about his own mother. Right in front of him, no less. "H-how- how could you say such a thing?!" he demanded.

"She was a drag king, DJ," Chef revealed. "I thought she was male. Found out just after I climaxed. I would've killed her for this, but she threatened to report me to the police. Homosexuality is was illegal in Jamaica at the time and it was a very homophobic country. Still is. Didn't want to get arrested or chased by an angry mob. This gave me more of a reason to try to kill her, but the cunt kicked me in the balls and ran out of the room. I had to leave the country in case the bitch squealed."

DJ got progressively more horrified as Chef went on about the night he was conceived. "Twenty-two years later, the slut hunts me down, calls my number asking for child support. I just received the DNA tests. Not paying the child support, but I do know that I can never go back to Jamaica. It's a shithole anyway."

DJ's jaw dropped. "I _**came**_ from Jamaica!" he screamed.

"And know you're living here in Canada," Chef added. "Proves my point exactly."

"Please, enough!" DJ begged. "I don't believe you!"

"Here's yer damn proof right here!" Chef grabbed the DNA tests out of his pocket and handed them to DJ. DJ read them. To his utter horror, it was true! The evidence was solid and concrete. Chef Hatchet was Devon Joseph's father.

"No," DJ breathed, standing up. "No… this can't be…"

"Well it is," Chef told him. "Nothing you can do about it."

"I… this won't change anything!" DJ raised his voice. "Momma would never do that to you- even if she would, I still don't like what you've been saying about her and my country of origin! I don't want anything to do with you! You're still not my father!"

Chef Hatchet had had enough. He stood up and gripped DJ by the collar. He raised the gentle giant's eyes to the same level as Chef's, practically so that their noses were touching. "Devon, why can't you see that you are my child?!" he demanded. "You are my son! My mind! You are practically a **mini me**!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" DJ yelled. "This is not happening! You are a horrible man, and you would've been a terrible father!" he screamed. Tears were streaming from his eyes. He's never felt so hurt in his life.

"Well too bad!" Chef dropped DJ to the ground and stood on him. "I am your father whether you like it or not! And I don't give a fuck how old you fucking are, you will do exactly what I say, WHEN I say it!" He pounced on his son and bit him right on the shoulder. Hard. DJ whimpered in pain, but Chef ignored him. Blood emerged from the bite wounds as soon as Chef let go, so the cook proceeded to lick the blood off of him. By this point, DJ was traumatised, but it did not end there. Chef stood up. Next, he unzipped his pants and whipped out his penis.

"Now. To mark my ownership," Chef declared. He proceeded to urinate on top of DJ. The entire stream of urine landed on his offspring, ranging in target from head to toe. Not literally, but you get the idea. Chef was basically marking his own territory on his own son!

Although it was not long before Chef was finished, DJ had no idea how long his own father was pissing right on top of him. Chef grabbed DJ and carried him away. DJ was too shaken from the event that he did not even make an attempt to wrestle out of his father's tight grip. Given their strengths, it would've been pointless for DJ to try anyway. Fifteen tedious minutes later, they reached a cabin still deep in the forest. They entered the cabin and Chef placed DJ on a table.

Naturally, DJ was confused. "Wha- what are you gonna do to me?" he asked, trembling, as he witnessed Chef take off his apron and shirt.

"I dunno what cult your hag of a mother raised you in, but as a child of a Hatchet, you are Jewish," Chef explained, grabbing a pair of scissors from the chair. That was when DJ realised what was going to happen next. DJ tried to kick Chef away as the latter went up to him, but he missed. Chef grabbed DJ by the foot and sprained his ankle. DJ screeched in pain as Chef unzipped DJ's pants and pulled out his penis.

"Don't worry, my son," Chef told him cruelly in his most sinister tone yet; "this is only going to hurt like fuck." He raised the scissors and then brought it down.

And snipped the foreskin off.

In an instant, DJ immediately felt his whole world spinning around him. He also felt a smarting pain coming from his crotch. It felt like he was stung by an Africanised killer bee, was burnt by the flame from a Bunsen burner, and had a part of him taken away from him, all in one. The pain was that severe. He let out the loudest scream he could force from the bottom of his lungs. Chef ignored the scream as he grabbed a cloth and some ice from the first aid kit and pressed it against the top of DJ's penis. Part of the cloth touched off the glans; the very sensitive part of the penis. This did not help the pain at all.

After an hour of intense pain that felt like a whole day, the pain subdued somewhat. It was still there. DJ was even more frightened of Chef than he was after Chef pissed on him. And at the time, he was even more scared of Chef than he was before the day even began. Indifferent to the fear in his son's eyes, Chef pulled up DJ's pants and carried his son over to a couch and laid him down.

And then climbed on top of him.

"Wha- what are you d-d-doing?!" DJ stammered.

"What does it look like?" Chef sneered, forcefully taking DJ's shirt off. "Your mother was a skank, but I guess she was right not to have me in your life."

"DAMN RIGHT!" DJ yelled.

Chef punched DJ in the face. "Don't you EVER interrupt your father! CLEAR?!" he snapped. DJ trembled under Chef's weight. Chef continued. "So maybe she did have sex with me because she only wanted a child but could not cope with the burdens of a monogamous relationship. I'm not sure; I haven't seen her since I left Jamaica. Izzy told me she was a good mother, but who still really gets around nonetheless."

"What does _**Izzy**_ have to do with anything?!" DJ demanded.

"Do you honestly think that she was going to call me up, son?!" Chef raised his voice. "Do you think she would want a heterophobic, misogynistic sociopath in her son's life?! No! I knew from the moment I first saw you that you had something in resemblance to that cunt I was tricked into fucking many years ago! So I bribed Izzy with getting to go back into Total Drama Action for a second time in exchange for you and your mother's DNA samples! The results confirm that I am your father! And now that I know the truth, I can finally pay that fat bitch back!"

"H-how?!" DJ choked.

Chef stood up. He faced the wall for a few minutes, before turning to face DJ. "By making sure she'll never see her son again!" Chef replied. "_**My**_ son!"

DJ literally went pale. He was so startled by what he was hearing, he felt his body shaking like it has never done before. He could hardly even move. Chef was going to end his relationship with his mother. The person who he has loved more than anyone else, and who has loved him more than life itself. He wanted to scream at Chef, but the shock had paralysed him. Chef took this as an opportunity to climb back on DJ. He wrapped his arms around his son's body and pulled him closer; his frozen nipples touching off of his bare chest.

"Now where were we?" Chef smirked, in a seductively sinister voice, reaching one of his hands down towards DJ's arse.

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><p><strong>Well, I have officially crossed a moral event horizon with this fic. I am definitely going to hell when I die; no point in denying that. <strong>** Anyway, do not try Chef's actions at home (or anywhere, for that matter). And bring a weapon the next time you go to a forest. You'll never know.**

**Until next time!***


End file.
